The Only Thing We Have to Fear
by Initial A
Summary: He is afraid. {Finale spoilers and speculation for season 5}


She returns before nightfall the next day, appearing pale and shaken but otherwise appearing well. He's been beside himself with worry for the last sixteen hours - all of them have, no one has slept, instead channeling their energies into arguing and searching and a few discrete tears shed here and there.

More than a few are his.

 _"I love you."_

 _The words had been stuck in his throat, bursting to come out before she shoved him away and the only thing he could scream is "NO!" because he has seen this darkness before and Emma_ cannot _-_

She appears well. Her eyes contain shadows that he can't recall ever seeing before and there's an almost constant hum or a crackle of energy around her, but otherwise she's _Emma_.

He tells himself this, but he can't bring himself to -

He hasn't touched her.

She notices. He sees her fighting the darkness within every day and she _notices_ when he doesn't console her as he might have before she took on the darkness. He sees her body go quite still at dinner, her eyes watching something faraway, and he _knows_ she's fighting a battle he can't win for her. This is a battle that she must win, that she must contain until they can find this Merlin to take it out of her.

And he _cannot_ touch her.

He is _afraid_.

Weeks pass and he can see her faltering more with each passing day. She's strong, his Swan, but even Light has its limits. He can see the strain on her face, the silent pleading for _anyone_ to help her in this war only she can wage.

Some days she'll reach for him but pull away at the last second, misreading the fear in his eyes as fear of _her_ , not the fear he's held inside him for centuries, that he destroys whatever is in his path. The fear that the darkness still grips him tight. The fear that if he dares to even _breathe_ near her she'll fall into a pit of hell that even his damned soul could never follow her into.

 _"I love you."_

 _I want to love you. I am afraid to love you._

One day the darkness breaks from her skin like lightning, charring the walls of the loft and making the little lad wail until their ears hurt. Emma flees the building in a blind panic and there's a part of him that wants him to stay where he is, but the larger part says to _go after her you bloody ponce_ and that's how he ends up sprinting down the street after her.

She cries when he holds her finally, cradling her head against his shoulder as she babbles nonsense about her fears that she can't _do_ this, she's going to _fail_ , that Merlin is a _myth_ and they're chasing their tails, that he _doesn't love her_.

 _"I love you."_

 _I love you more than words can say._

He can't tell her, not when he's treated her so callously, but he murmurs words of affection, the most he can muster without telling her the words he is desperately afraid to say. He _knows_ she loves him and he _knows_ he loves her, but he is _afraid_. Afraid that he isn't _enough_ , that it's not going to be _enough_ for them -

Because he has been here before.

In an apartment building in a city called New York, a kiss that should have... _could_ have worked to free her memory from the chains of the curse.

And he wasn't enough.

Holding her doesn't seem to affect her negatively. In fact, she seems stronger, the energetic hum around her less prominent, her hair glowing a little brighter over the next few days. She reaches for his hand, tangling their fingers together just before she drifts into her personal war.

She tells him he keeps her grounded, that she has a reason to keep fighting.

 _"I love you."_

 _I'm not worthy enough to love you._

Casual touches keep her sane while there's a breakthrough in the search for Merlin. It's far, the sorcerer's home, and Emma fears the monstrosities in the sky called _airplanes_ while her magic runs amok, so they drive. The Queen expresses her concerns when Emma's magic still appears in the land without, but Killian reasons that the mixing of Savior and Darkness magics are as unpredictable as anything else. Emma is the anomaly, and ultimate Dark waging war against infinite Light would surely continue outside of their land's borders.

Merlin is unimpressive, a shrunken man with a too-long beard and too-perceptive eyes. He seems young, for a man supposedly thousands of years in age, but who is Killian to judge that?

Merlin's perceptive gaze latches on to them immediately. "Your solution to the darkness has been before you all along."

 _"I love you."_

 _I have always loved you._

True Love's Kiss can break any curse. But he _tried_ , Killian explains, in a building in a city on the other side of the continent, and it failed.

It - _he_ wasn't enough.

The sorcerer is unimpressed. "True Love's Kiss doesn't work unless both parties have their memories intact."

The wind escapes from his lungs as the entire world around him shifts.

 _"I love you."_

 _I will always love you, for as long as you'll have me._

"It doesn't work on memory spells?" he asks faintly.

"Can't do. How fair is it to force someone to love you? It's downright cruel to force such a fate on someone, if you ask me," the sorcerer replies gruffly as he sorts through his magical tomes.

Killian's eyes find Emma's, knowing his shone with more hope than someone as wretched as he should ever dare to have. Her hope is smaller, more cautious - more _Emma_. He notes, not for the first time, how her eyes have changed color in the last few weeks. He misses the rich greens and hint of brown, her eyes the color of the forest she should have one day ruled. Now they're the color of moss on a stone, more gray than green, duller.

But also fitting.

Moss is a fighter. It strives for life, seeking a home in every crack, nook, and cranny it can find. It survives on little and spreads where it can to claim its place in the world.

"I love you."

Her face is softer than it's been since before, the worry melting away and leaving radiant adoration in its place. She cups his face, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she whispers, _"I love you too"_ just before catching his lips in her own.

He's almost thrown to the floor with the force of magic that bursts from her - _them_. But he'll be thrice damned if he ever leaves her side again, causes her _any_ doubt of his love and devotion to her. His lips crush against hers more firmly and she grips him tighter as he pours his love for her into this one simple act of affection, and there's shouting from their friends and family but he _doesn't care_.

She is safe.

She is whole.

She is loved.

And she loves him in return.


End file.
